


Spring Training

by MollyC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: April Fools' Challenge, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Wee!chesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyC/pseuds/MollyC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things get started early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring Training

**Author's Note:**

> For the April Fools' Challenge on SPNspirations, from jeweledvixen's prompt "Dean starts gaining weight."

“Daddy!”

Dean’s voice was little-boy shrill at the best of times, but John recognized a note of real urgency in it and his head snapped up from the page he’d been reading.  Fascinating as poltergeists were—a part of his mind still refused to believe that he was taking all this stuff seriously—he had to find out what was wrong with his sons.

Dean had asked before taking Sammy over to the sandbox, which was far enough away that it took John a few seconds to get to it.  By the time he arrived, Sammy was tucked against Dean’s shoulder and crying with gusto.  Another little boy sat on the far side, digging industriously and ignoring Dean and Sam so completely that John knew it had to be an act; he was within a year of Dean’s age, but already tall enough to suggest he was going to be a big man when he was grown.

“Daddy, that boy knocked Sammy over!” Dean exclaimed as John knelt next to them.  

“Faw down,” Sammy wailed in agreement, and reached for John.  John boosted his son into his arms and rubbed his back.  

“Are you hurt, champ?” John asked.  At two and a half, Sammy was little enough that all these tears could just be dramatics.  Sure enough, he shook his head, but didn’t stop crying, and repeated, “Faw down.”

“He didn’t fall, that boy pushed him,” Dean said, indignant.

“It’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen, Dean,” John said, mildly enough he thought.  “You’re the big brother, you’re supposed to protect Sammy.”

Dean’s expression changed instantly from anger to remorse.  “I”m sorry, Daddy,” he said.  “It’s just, he’s bigger than me.”

“That doesn’t matter.  Taking care of Sam is your job.  You have to be the big boy.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dean said.

John nodded and started looking around for the adult who should have been keeping this kid from pushing other kids in the sandbox.  At the nearby swingset a woman was pushing a little girl, and he didn’t see any other adults in shouting distance, so he handed Sammy back to Dean and brushed the sand off his knees as he stood.

* * *

A week and a half later, John watched with some puzzlement as Dean ate his way steadily through his second plate of broccoli.  With Dean’s usual appetite it wouldn’t have been surprising, but John knew for a fact that Dean disliked most forms of green vegetable with a passion, and broccoli was pretty high up there on the yuck list.  And though kids’ tastes could change dramatically and fast, Dean was making a disgusted face every time he shoved a forkful into his mouth.

“You can stop now, Dean,” John said.  “You ate your dinner.”

Dean chewed furiously and swallowed a bite that was big enough it probably hurt.  “Mrs. Schultz says vegetables will help me get big,” he said, his eyes wide with sincerity.

“Mrs. Schultz is your teacher?” John asked.  He’d given up trying to keep track of the teachers’ names several schools ago, though he was getting good at the process of getting Dean registered at the newest.

“Yeah,” Dean said.  “I asked her what I should do to grow up faster and she said I should get enough sleep and drink milk and eat all the vegetables.”  He paused, and from his booster seat Sam shouted, “Veggie!”  with toddler enthusiasm.

John had to stifle actual laughter at the woe-filled expression Dean produced.  “Even though they’re gross.”

“Why do you need to grow up faster?” John asked.

“So I can take care of Sammy,” Dean said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Like you said.”

John smiled.  “Tell you what, Deano,” he said.  “Tomorrow we’ll go to Hills and get you a scale so you can keep track of how fast you’re growing.”  Dean nodded eagerly.  “And in the meantime, I think you’ve had plenty of broccoli for tonight.  We don’t have any pie, but you can have some ice cream before bed, how’s that sound?  Ice cream is made of milk, so it’ll help.”

“OK, Daddy,” Dean said, suddenly cheerful again.  He set his fork down and shoved the plate away.

John couldn’t resist leaning over to ruffle his hair. 


End file.
